Her face ... was a one-of-a-kind, a surprising variation on a familiar theme - a variation that made observers think, Yes - that would be another very nice way for people to look. What Beatrice had done with her face, actually, was what any plain girl could do. She overlaid it with dignity, suffering, intelligence, and a piquant dash of bitchiness.

~Kurt Vonnegut,  The Sirens of Titan

“What humanity was about to lose, though, except for one tiny colony on Santa Rosalia, was what the trackless sea could never lose, so long as it was made of water, the ability to heal itself.”

~ Kurt Vonnegut ,  Galápagos

The Struggle to post...

Liberty on the Abyss of the Blog.

And this is the key of all art. This is the key of form. the rhythm is implicit in your own body. It is implicit in your expression. And when the rhythm is properly, fortunately achieved, the result is radiance, rapture, beholding it. It is the rhythm of nature, it is the rhythm of YOUR nature...
J. Campbell

OH...Micky...
So it Goes...

family is all we have...So it goes...

http://rebeccasgenealogyservices.com/index.html

Mother
14 February 1930 to 15 February 2012

A Fan Club

Kilgore Trout Appreciation Society

Kilgore asked to crash on my couch... Really... A joke...that's a good one... really...

    In 2007 I was working at the city Zoo. I lived on the other side of the bay and took the Bus every mourning up and over the bridge to work. On clear days it offered quite a view. There was one particular  day  in the Spring that will forever sum up nicely this relationship.
As the Bus was reaching the apex of the bridge the clarity of the view was equaled only to the clarity of thought. I was suddenly thinking of Kilgore Trout. The relationship to Kurt over his life time was one of inspiration. What suddenly made sense was the knowledge that reality is the totality of awareness and perception. A transcendental experience that springs from deep down in the psyche and erupts into conscious mind with such zeal that I  can only describe as Pure Bliss. This is an old friend coming to visit right hear right now and asking if he can crash on the couch. Why would Kilgore ask to crash on my couch? He has just told me his life story. Everything is illuminated and I have an understanding how this all gone to be… So it goes…
    He left as as suddenly as he came , I went to work and just had a sense of calm    though out the entire day. I cant recall such a peaceful feeling lasting that long before. That feeling changed to something I can't describe shortly after I got home that day. The news was on… And there it was… Just matter of fact… It was being reported…

Kurt Vonnegut, , has died at age 84.

   

    So it goes…

    Really… Thats why he said he needs to crash on my couch… That's a good one.


"I've had a hell of a good time," Vonnegut once wrote. "I tell you, we are here on Earth to fart around, and don't let anybody tell you any different."


This is the first time I have told this story. I can't keep that to myself. Anymore than I could just make that up. I felt his  presence that day and it was undeniable.
this eleventh Day of April , in the Year 2007.

    So it goes...

Thoughts on PQA

   
As this should properly be a Blog about certain particular people I have made acquaintance with.

    I remember an event like this one…

I have come to call them Kilgores'…Or so it goes…




    The only thing I know for sure is that all of this is possible . If and when Kilgore pops into your head go with it.

      It’s more of an oral tradition when told so it’s always changing a bit.

     Kilgore first came to me with a shiny paperback novel . Galapagos: a novel..  just as Bluebeard came out on hardcover. so this was 1987 or 1988... Now with PQA so it goes... before the Trout event this Prof Quintini shows up and tells me to hold on to this Almanac.   He and this Almanac, I latter learned, came buy way of Crono  Synclastic Infundibula and

   Quintini is Professor  of psudo-theoretical physics at The University of Tralfamador which at that point I quit trying to translate the Almanac, as that proves to be ridiculous. That's because the information in the Almanac is knowledge based on other dimensions and a somewhat different stream of consciousness.  Now you can have it over there, and and it all makes sense and it is understood.  Now your over hear, and and it is not so clear all of sudden.The thought patterns in our big brains and consciousness are just not the same and it slips away. You go back and forth here to there , you cant be both places at the same time , I like to have one foot in the Transcendent. So it goes.. and you think you know, so just write it down, you try and translate, everything is gobbledygook.  Now I can think 'it'. but when it comes to putting it down on paper and /or explaining all the ideas and concepts , it has no language, what is it math? sort of. Well , Oh, If I could only tell you... so close, I just had it... Try metaphors for a paradox wrapped around an enigma. No beginning  and no ending...Yet I have "accessed the font of Transcendent thinking"...So it goes...It's right here. It's all in my noodle, ready to be intended.

    The fact is. I have the Almanac. PQA "Professor Quintini's Almanac" It is an applied sudo-science. Hard-point singularities manifest serendipitously. Remember this is for non-linear time.  There are all kinds of other reference points and markers of what/where/when of an event/happening  or sometimes called an episode. I can easily recognize PQA "I know it when I see it" everything is understood.
   
    Getting back to the story Quintini say's just hold onto this, the Almanac,  someone might need it later. What I knew then was only half of what was really going on.  As I am reading this new book I have, Galapagos.

     Now I knew who Vonnegut was and I was supposed to have read Slaughterer House Five back in high school but the closest I got  back then was a VHS copy of the Movie. I figure this might just be enough to bluff my way through whatever might come at me. I play the tape and the audio is unintelligible/Inaudible. cant hear a fucken' thing, mumbo jumbo. so it goes…

    I couldn't read books really, I have a wandering mind that would not focus or pay attention to what it was reading so I would be four or five pages along and thinking of something other than what I was reading, and I was reading, I would turn back the four or five pages and re-read what I  already read.  I remember recognizing reading as having been read, but only the second time through. where does this all go? Somewhere in my mind that I don't have to be. An autopilot of some kind takes over, I wander off in thought, it keeps right on reading. That on a good day. I could also just sit and stare at the same page for hours and imagine my own story based on what little I knew of that one. 
     There are certain authors that are an exception to this and I could read them. Vonnegut was one. Like a familiar old friend. I could hear him speaking.
    Now leading up to this event I had finally started to focus on my reading. A holistic practitioner changed my diet,  I was exercising. So I am reading  ie;  spirituality, new age , quantum physics, etc.
    A shaman introduced me to Carlos Castenada… I read these stories.I was told I am
Benigno…the Master of Intent.
So I think  I am predisposed to being Kilgore'ed.


      So I am in Chelsea bookstore, long beach ,CA it is 1987-8, something like that , Galapagos has been issued on paperback from I think Dell, it has a shiny cover on it. You may have seen this edition of it.  A kinda of blueish shiny.  This is exactly what transpired , no joke, I am looking through the stacks of fiction paperbacks up on the second floor . This is an old converted victorian style house , has a lot of natural light.  "What is this one" I say to myself. A shiny, shine, shiny SPINE. The spine was all that was exposed. I pulled it out off of the shelf and… Galapagos: A Novel… That Slaughterhouse guy, Vonnegut. They say he is something else. I have friends that swear by him and read everything he's ever done. I don't know , WW2 Slaughterhouses, it just does not appeal to me, I don't know. Put it back and be done with it.
Now back it goes and , wait a minute, The spine is not shiny, just the cover. It was shiny. It's mine now. something telling me this is not your regular Vonnegut , this is Happening. Something wonderful.

I read Galapagos. My first Vonnegut.  And Maybe  my favorite.   I have now read  all the others as well.
 So familiar… This Kilgore reminds me of Quintini. Alter ego he calls it. Fine. Maybe they know each other, wouldn't that be funny….



The Gardener said:
    As I can pull together Kilgore had something to do with what you thought was a shiny spine on the paperback version of Galapagos. You have friends who praise Vonnegut ,
But have never read any of his work.The closest you came was not reading Slaughter House Five when it was assigned to you in class way back when. I seem to remember you tried watching the movie adaptation, but The tape you rented had inaudible sound , Trout’s doing I bet. So here you are years later pulling a book with a shiny spine off the shelf for just because it is shiny. Your in the bookstore looking for new age, mysticism bullshit because you think it might help with all these weird thoughts your having about time travelers with almanacs. Now here’s the thing, your looking at Galapagos with the nice shiny cover and think that this slaughter House guy with his Galapagos tortoises can go right back on the shelf were it came. Now you can plainly see that the spine is NOT shiny. Only the cover is shiny. So you pull the thing back off the shelf and you here a voice say “how do you like me know? Or so it goes.


..INTO this dark night souls begin to enter... draws them forth from the state of beginners—which is the state of those that meditate on the spiritual road—and begins to set them in the state of progressives—which is that of those who are already contemplatives—to the end that, after passing through it, they may arrive at the state of the perfect, which is that of the Divine

WONDER BOY

I am going to do this slowly, as I have not the natural ability to write with an audience in mind. I think I am going to try to just write for me.

I will take my time.


The beginning as I recall is a boy with some wonderful imagination who found piece by piece a serendipitous meaning of life.

Shared Experiences in non-linear Time

This is a graphical representation of a shared experience in non-linear Time.
A mechanism for the potential of all things possible.

Self portrait

This is me. I am Psychopomp.

One foot in the Transcendent.

THIS Is where I will ,to the best of my ability, share with you just how I came to know certain people in my life that have allowed me to live with one foot in the transcendent. There's just a few, and they are the ones that have given my life meaning.